


Rough

by fredbassett



Series: Taking the Rough with the Smooth [3]
Category: Rugby RPF, Rugby Union RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:14:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25874197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fredbassett/pseuds/fredbassett
Summary: Roles are reversed when Danny needs George's support.
Relationships: George Ford/Danny Cipriani
Series: Taking the Rough with the Smooth [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1863124
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	Rough

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to the lovely Luka for the beta!

_Don’t think I’ll make it up to yours tonight mate. Sorry xx_

George stared at the WhatsApp message on his phone, trying not to feel like the bottom had just dropped out of his world. They’d been expecting to spend two days off together at his place. Finding time for each other over the past couple of weeks hadn’t been easy now Danny was back in training.

He took a deep breath and texted back. _Problem?_

_Knee fucking fucked again._

George promptly hit the icon to WhatsApp call Danny. It was accepted immediately, but not as a video call. “What happened?”

“Bit of a roughhouse on the pitch. Twisted my fucking knee when I went down. The physio told me to wear a brace on it and not drive.” Danny sounded tired and George thought he caught a hiss of indrawn breath that sounded like something was painful, and probably not just the knee.

“I can come down to you, no problem.”

“I know you hate changing arrangements at the last minute…”

“Don’t be a twat. It’ll take me an hour to get sorted here, and the traffic will have died down a bit by then anyway. I’ll be with you by nine. OK?”

“That’s great. I’ll get something out of the fridge or we can get a takeaway.”

George took another deep breath after the call ended and exhaled slowly, trying to let go of the tight knot that had settled on his stomach when he’d got the message. His relationship with Danny was still too new for him to have let go of his old insecurities yet, no matter how intense their time together had been. He still felt like the boring kid with nothing to contribute other than rugby talk. Apart from to family and a few friends like Owen, Jonny and Sophie, they still weren’t out, and that had been one of the things they’d intended to talk about over the next couple of days, so George’s first thought was that Danny had got cold feet.

His phone bleeped. A gif of two slugs jumping in the air and kissing each other made him grin. He sent one back of a fox blowing a kiss, then started to go through his mental checklist for leaving the house: plugs pulled out, everything tidy, switches set to turn lights on and off at various times, nothing left in the fridge that would take on a life of its own, duvet and pillows left straight on the bed, cushions in their right places, clothes straight in the wardrobe. He packed a bag slowly and methodically then did his usual walk through every room checking windows and doors were all locked.

Exactly an hour later, he set the burglar alarm and, five minutes later, was on the road.

Once he hit the motorway, the traffic cleared quickly and the drive was easy. The gates were open for him at Danny’s when he arrived. 

George was hauling his bag out of the boot as Danny opened the door. “Watching from a window?” he asked, turning around with a grin on his face. The bag dropped from his hand. “Cips, what the fuck happened?”

A black eye was blooming like a purple flower on Danny’s face. A cut on his forehead was held together by Steri-Strips and there was an angry-looking red scrape on his cheek. 

He took a careful step towards George, moving awkwardly in a way that was immediately recognisable as badly bruised ribs. “I’m fine.”

“If that’s fine, then I’m fucking untidy, and we both know that’s not true.” He crossed the distance between them in three quick strides and slipped his arms very gently around Danny’s waist and pressed an equally gentle kiss to his lips. 

Danny leaned against him and returned the kiss then rested his head on George’s shoulder for a moment. “Thanks for coming.”

“Come on, let’s get you inside and you can tell me what really happened. That was more than a fucking roughhouse.”

“Orange gin?”

Danny was almost as good at deflection as George was, but this wasn’t the moment to call him on it. “Only reason I came, mate.”

George quickly took his bag upstairs and unpacked, putting his stuff in the drawers Danny had given to him. By the time he got back downstairs, a gin was waiting for him in the kitchen and Danny was sprawled out on the sofa there with his bad leg resting on the coffee table. George settled down next to him, legs tucked up underneath him.

“Ribs?”

“Bruised. The doctor didn’t think they were cracked.”

“Concussion?”

“Doesn’t feel like, they did do a head injury assessment.”

“OK, so talk…”

Danny sighed. “Fucking Ackermann junior decided to settle a few scores while daddy looked the other way. He caught me off-guard and I went down. I just wasn’t expecting him to put the boot in that badly. And a few of the other fuckers joined in. By the time I managed to retaliate, daddy was looking again, so guess who copped for a warning?”

“Who joined in?” George tried to keep his voice level. “Did anyone help you?

“Fucking Fourie weighed in on Ackers’ side, Billy and Aki got stuck in to the pair of them. Henry had a go as well and copped for an elbow in the ear and a cut shin. There was the usual load of yelling and shoving. Jonny was fucking furious.”  
“Fucking god-botherers.” George didn’t even try to keep the venom out of his tone. “Do they know about us?”

Danny shook his head. “If they did, they wouldn’t have been able to stop themselves being snide. I think he just doesn’t like me arguing with daddy. And I do that often enough.”

George had also heard a few comments from the religious Saffers claiming Danny would fuck anything with a pulse and a pair of big tits, but Danny would know that as well as he did.

“How long are you off for?”

“Depend on the quack and the physio, but probably at least a week.”

“Jesus, mate…” George entwined his fingers with Danny’s. “That’s fucking rough. Are you going to complain about Junior?”

“Won’t get me anywhere. Daddy won’t hear a word against the little cunt and I’m the bad boy.”

George took a mouthful of gin and breathed deeply when all he really wanted to do was punch something, hard. Preferably Ruan fucking Ackermann.

Danny kissed the back of George’s hand. “What do you fancy to eat?”

“What’s in the fridge?”

“Steak, eggs, mushrooms. I was going to bung it all in a freezer bag and bring it up to you. There’s some little spuds in the veg rack, too.”

“I’ll cook.” George needed the displacement activity. He wouldn’t win Masterchef, but he could handle boiling potatoes and cooking steak. He ate enough of it at home, and he and Danny both liked it rare. According to Owen, all he did was wipe its arse and slap it on a plate.

George enjoyed the casual domesticity of pottering around Danny’s kitchen, setting places at the table while the spuds boiled, then busying himself frying mushrooms, onions and eggs, then keeping that lot warm on the plates while he quickly fried the steaks.

They ate in companionable silence and by the time he was outside a decent plate of food and two large gins, George was feeling less homicidal. He’d also replied to a couple of WhatsApps from Jonny. One was wholly random about a new species of prehistoric chicken found in China and the other demanded to know if Cips had told him what had happened. George had ignored one and replied to the other. He just hoped he’s got the responses the right way round, but even if he hadn’t, it wouldn’t matter to Jonny, who’d once replied to a message about Christmas at Easter, and then hadn’t understood why George had been confused.

After carefully loading the dishwasher and turning it on, George prepared a gin for them to share and said, “Bed.” It was statement, not a question.

The wince when Danny pulled his teeshirt off was unmistakeable. A large purple bruise was already spreading down the left side of his ribs, and when he pushed down his trousers and underwear, there was another at the top of his left thigh. George said nothing, but quickly picked up Danny’s discarded clothing and dropped it in the washing basket.

“Stopping you bending down, not tidying up.”

“That’s your story and you’re sticking to it.”

George grinned. “Have I told you I’ve bought you a load of cushions for the bedroom? Nice pink ones…”

“Fuck off, Fordy.”

Danny settled himself down carefully and started to reach down to remove the support from his knee, but the movement drew another barely disguised wince.

“Leave it, I’ll do it.” George quickly stripped off and sat on the bed, carefully loosening the Velcro straps and removing the support. He probed the slight puffiness below the kneecap, frowning. “They did a right fucking number on you. What the fuck is Willi doing about them? This is going to keep you off for more than just another week.”

“He won’t get anywhere with Ackermann, but he’ll chew a few ears off the pitch.”

George ran his hands slowly up Danny’s shin, working the muscles, enjoying the feel of Danny’s dark hairs under his hands.

“No, you’re not getting the razor out …”

“Wasn’t thinking of it.” He slid his hands up Danny’s muscular thighs, being careful to avoid the bruises. “Feels nice like this.” 

George was still enjoying exploring the sensations of bedding a bloke. He liked the rasp of Danny’s close-cropped beard on his skin, enjoyed the feel of hard muscles under his hands and the soft fuzz of body hair against his palm. He only shaved his own legs to give himself a performance edge and knew some of the lads thought that was going a bit far, but George had always played the percentages where his game was concerned. At his size, he had to take any advantages he could gain.

He settled down on the bed next to Danny and slipped an arm around his shoulders. Danny turned to him for a kiss that started gently but gathered heat until George pulled back and said softly, “Not sure we should be doing this with you in this state…”

Danny laughed. “Mate, I took a kicking in practice. I’ve had worse in a game and carried on.”

Deciding that wasn’t the time to debate HIAs, George held the gin glass up to Danny’s mouth then enjoyed an orange-flavoured kiss, chasing the taste around Danny’s tongue and enjoying the hot mouth working against his, lips hard and demanding but never asking more than George wanted to give.

When they drew apart, George noticed an oddly uncertain look settle on Danny’s face. “Cips?”

Danny drank some more gin before meeting George’s eyes. 

In a voice more hesitant that he’d heard from his normally confident lover before, Danny said, “Will you fuck me, Fordy?”

George’s eyes widened and he was conscious that he was probably looking like a gormless teenager. Of all the things he’d thought Danny might have been about to say, that wasn’t one of them.

“No worries if you’d rather not,” Danny said quickly, turning his attention to the gin glass instead. “I wasn’t sure if…”

George silenced him with a kiss, open-mouthed and hard. “That’d be bloody brilliant,” he said when they’d finally snogged each other breathless. “But not with your ribs in that state.”

“I’ll lie on my side. It’s nice that way.”

George knew that. They’d frequently made love like that in the morning, with Danny spooned behind him, kissing and nuzzling his neck, while thrusting lazily into George’s arse. 

“Didn’t realised you liked it both ways.” In fact, they’d never talked about it. George had just presumed Danny preferred to be the one doing the fucking.

Danny grinned. “Yeah, always have. Not taken it that way for a while, though. My last boyfriend didn’t like topping, and that was a few years ago, so I’m definitely out of practice.”

“What’s not to like?” 

The grin broadened. “Nothing. But if you don’t fancy it, no problem, honest.”

“Stop mithering, idiot, I’ll try anything once, unless it’s Jonny’s cooking and your arse-rattling curries. So what’s it like?” He reached over to the bedside table and found the condoms and lube.

“Like a girl, only tighter and drier.” A slight flush rose up Danny’s face. 

“Inappropriate question?” George didn’t like surprises, he never had, so he knew he sometimes over-compensated by asking too many questions. 

“No.” Danny ruffled George’s hair. “You’re cute when you’re curious.”

“There are bits of you that haven’t been banged up yet, so watch yourself, Cips…” George poked his finger at Danny’s undamaged leg before tearing open the condom packet and turning off the bedside light.

“Jabbing me with your finger isn’t foreplay, mate.”

“Not what you said last week.”

Danny laughed and turned to him again for a kiss that was all heat but still with that edge of slight uncertainty that George was finding a huge and unexpected turn-on. At odds with that was the anger that burned hot in his guts against the fuckwits that had targeted Danny. 

George knew what it was like to be dog-piled deliberately in a match, and it fucking hurt, but getting it in a practice game from members of your own team was worse. He was used to Danny being the one in control, the person with the easy confidence, the one with the who-gives-a-fuck attitude that could make him a nightmare to control on the pitch. But he’d been a solid lump of comfort when George had needed it most, and now he wanted to give something back, to restore that confidence, to make Danny understand that he cared. That he cared so fucking much that it hurt to see Danny’s vulnerability, while at the same time he respected Danny for being able to lower his defences with him.

Trying to keep his weight off Danny’s bruised ribs wasn’t easy, especially when they ended up in a confused tangle of arms as they tried to manoeuvre themselves into a position that would work for them both. Laughter came easily to them now. 

George had quickly gone beyond the embarrassed stage when it came to the mechanics of sex with a bloke and knew that if things got messy, they’d just laugh and deal with it. The porn sites he’d looked at had been no real preparation for anything, other than knowing that cocks went up arses and into mouths – and up noses and into ears, if some of them were to be believed. No one on a porn site ever farted after a fuck or dribbled while giving a blow job. George had done both. He’d also laughed more in bed with Danny than he’d ever done with a woman. 

He’d finally stopped pretending to himself and his partners, and a weight he’d lugged around since his early teens had started to lift. He knew they still had a lot to face, but …

“Fordy, are you going to stop over-thinking any time this century?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Less thinking, more fucking.”

“Foreplay?”

“We’ve had that. You’ve stroked my hairy legs.”

“Just checking.” 

George nudged Danny’s uninjured leg up and slicked a small amount of gel onto his fingers. He hated getting the bloody stuff on the sheets, but Danny kept telling him that was what washing machines were for, and it was all water soluble. He ran his fingers slowly down Danny’s arse, thinking about what turned him on and how he could make Danny feel good. There was no tension in his lover’s body that he could feel, but he still kept stroking and circling, not teasing, just taking his time.

A long, slow exhale told him that Danny had deliberately released a pent-up breath. He was way better at all the mindfulness stuff than George would ever be and was very keen on breathing techniques. George slowly pushed his finger past the tight ring of muscle into Danny’s hot body at the same time as nuzzling the back of Danny’s neck, making sure he could feel the week-old stubble against his skin.

Danny pushed back, but George quickly settled his hand on his hip. “Stay still or you’ll hurt your bloody ribs.”

“Not made of bloody glass …”

“Stop arguing.” As a reward for Danny staying still, he worked in another finger. Christ on a bike, he couldn’t imagine how he’d ever manage to get his cock in there, Danny felt so tight, so unlike anything he’d experienced before that he started to feel his confidence slipping away before he’d even got started. His cock was almost painfully hard now, pressed up against the back of Danny’s thigh.

“Fordy, please, just hold me and fuck me, I can take it, I promise you.” Danny’s voice was low, holding an almost painful need.

George felt out of his depth but knew the time for thinking – or over-thinking, in his case – was past. He could worry later. Now he had to give Danny what he needed. He quickly rolled the condom over his hard cock and made sure he was slick enough, then positioned himself and started to press home, biting his lip in an attempt to stop himself going too far too fast. He slid his arm carefully around Danny’s waist and just held him as he continued to push. 

Danny gasped. “Feels good, don’t bloody stop.”

George kissed his lover’s shoulder. “If you want me to stop, just say stop.”

“Wanted this since I first saw you, you daft git. Don’t bloody stop now.”

Then words gave way to movement, and George lost himself in the tight heat of Danny’s body, feeling every breath his lover took, acutely conscious of every small movement of his bruised body, learning what brought the small gasps of pleasure that George just wanted to hold onto for as long as it took to smooth away pain and replace uncertainty with confidence again. Keeping things gentle was easy. Too much, too quickly and he wouldn’t last, not with Danny clenching around him and pressing back, despite George’s best efforts to keep him still. 

He ran his hand down over Danny’s injured chest, the muscles of his stomach hard under his palm. His fingers sought out Danny’s still soft cock and curled around him, feeling him start to swell. George knew what he liked and proceeded to apply that with all the single-mindedness he was well known for, his hand sliding over the silky-smooth skin as he brought Danny to full hardness in his hand.

They found a rhythm, gentle but intense, and George could feel himself getting closer to the edge as heat coiled low in his belly and danced lightly along every nerve in his body. Danny’s breathing was quickening, George knew the signs by now, knew the slight hitch in his lover’s breathing when George tightened his grip, his hand sliding in firm, long strokes, slick from Danny’s own leaking cock. He kissed Danny’s neck and shoulders, kissed whatever warm skin he could reach, tasting the sharp salt tang of sweat, smelling the familiar musk of arousal mixed with the citrus tang of shower gel. He nuzzled the dark hair, his own breathing shortening as he fought for what shreds of control he still possessed.

He could feel Danny straining against him, chasing the relief he needed, but still not quite there. There were things George wanted to say, things he’d rehearsed in his head on the car journey, things he’d never said before …

What came out of his mouth wasn’t what he’d intended and was considerably less romantic. “Cips, for fuck’s sake let go, I’ve got you. I promise.”

A sound all too close to a sob broke from Danny’s lips and he hit his climax, his hard cock pulsing in George’s hand. Danny’s tight channel clenched around him and George’s control broke. He thrust deeply into Danny’s shuddering body, holding him as tightly as he dared, his own climax hammering into him with the force of the hardest tackle he’d ever faced on the pitch.

When the wave of sharp pleasure had washed through him, he pulled back slowly, slipping from Danny’s body while the aftershocks of orgasm still ran through his body. George reached quickly for the tissues they kept by the bed, disposed of the condom and quickly cleaned them both before rolling Danny onto his back and seeking pliant, soft lips then kissing moisture from Danny’s cheeks.

“Christ, I needed that.” Danny’s voice was low but steady. 

“Fucking amazing.” George ran his tongue around Danny’s lips, teasing gently into his mouth. “Can we do it again sometime when I can kiss you at the same time?”

Danny’s shoulders shook with silent laughter, his face open and relaxed in a way that George now knew was for him and him alone. “As often as you want, but it might be a while before I can manage any acrobatics.”

George kissed him again. “I can wait. I’m good at waiting.”

Danny’s arms slid around his neck and then there was no need for words.


End file.
